all the great prizes

Lin's not chill, he's just tired

Me: Lin is just so cool.

Mom: Yes, you’ve mentioned that before. What made you say it just now?

Me: I don’t know, I mean he won a Pulitzer Prize and all this great stuff and he just seems so untouched by the fame. Like the way he dresses is just so chill and nonchalant.

Mom: It’s the baby.

Me: Huh?

Mom: He’s probably just tired. He has a kid now right? His first one? Yeah, he’s not being chill. He’s tired.

Me: Well-

Mom: No I’m right. See, I remember because I have 5 of them and I’m tired all the time. It’s the kid.

ML Ultimate Guess Who fic recs

I just finished binge-reading every single fic in the ML Ultimate Guess Who Challenge, where 42 (42!!!!) writers’ fics were published anonymously, and the fandom guesses who they are based on their writing style, chosen plot, or just arbitrarily (lol). This was organized by @mlficwritersanon​, and they even have prizes for it. It’s great. Reading all these was a TREAT, and now I have less than an hour left to submit my guesses. But before I do that, I thought I’d make a rec list of my favorites in the collection, without knowing who the authors are. (Which is kind of the whole point of the challenge, I think?)


One Size Fits All (or- Harder-Better-Faster-Stronger)
In which Kim becomes Ladybug. Just putting a link to this already makes me cackle. This is so well-written! It’s in Kim’s voice, and it’s so 100% solid and adorable and appropriately exasperating at times and just altogether enjoyable. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. It’s one of the lesser kudo’d fics in the collection, and that baffles me.

Premier Amour
A classic reveal fic that tugged on my heartstrings like heck.

Macaron Kisses
This piece is filled to the brim with wonderful imagery, heartwarming descriptions, and giggle-inducing feels. Exquisite.

Dredging Up the Past
If you’re a fan of Ladybug!Sabine (and even if you aren’t) this will be so worth your time. Sabine and Tikki interactions, and lots and lots and lots of family feels packed in a sweet little ficlet. I would not mind at all to know more about this AU.

Tomorrow’s Troubles
OKAY. LISTEN. THIS. THIS. THIS FIC. THis fic filled my heart with bittersweet, sad happiness, and I was resigned and excited to how it might end unTIL THE ENDING SUCKERPUNCHED ME LIKE FREAKIN’ FRICK WHO DOES THAT ALD;JFA;LKDSJF;LAJDLFJAL;SD THIS IS AMAZINGGAAAAAHHHHH

A Queens Relevation
A Chloé fic pretending to be Ladynoir. Or a Ladynoir fic pretending to be a Chloé fic. Or it’s not pretending at all, and it’s both at the same time and doing an A+ being it. Miraqulous squad feels with amazing introspection and well-written character interactions. Very nicely done.

Gotta admit that a lot of this fic flew over my head, but I cannot deny its awesomeness. It would be a crime to not rec it.

A simple woman
A reveal fic involving Mme. Bustier, with lots of Adrienette/Ladynoir cuteness. Wonderful.

Orion’s Belt
Afla;djfl;ajdf;alkjd;lgksjfgl THE LADYNOIR FEELS.

Dryer Machines and Lost Masks
There’s one golden Sabine line here, but to quote it would be to spoil the whole thing. So just read this hilarity.

must be love

No Matter How You Spin It
Fun squad interaction, Adrien being super observant Sherlock would be proud, and more sassy-but-actually-nice-it-you-look-closely-enough Chloé. But I’m mostly here for the onesies and the cake.

It Had to be Her…
YES. YES. YES TO THIS. LISTEN TO ME.  If you enjoyed my fic Friendly Competition, GO READ THIS FIC IMMEDIATELY.

A Familiar Pattern
This is the first fic I read out of the whole bunch. Golden friendly!Adrienette interaction, and….uh….not-so-friendly-but-actually-hot-and-sickeningly-sweet Adrienette/Ladynoir interaction. BLESS THIS FIC. READ IT AND GIVE ALL THE KUDOS.

dropping hints
Someone please save Chat Noir. This is all GOLD, my goodness, I was cackling the whole time. Please read and enjoy.

Just Asking For Some Privacy
Miraculous Squad hilarity! The interactions are AMAZING, and so in-character…. or at least as in-character as they could be while in full on panic and mortification. BRILLIANT.

Mint Two-Lips
The Adrienette/Ladynoir is STRONG in this one. I would love, love, love, love a sequel!

I- I’m not- I don’t think I can write a description that can give it this fic justice. It destroyed and repaired my heart and I literally had tears in my eyes at the beauty of this fic. The collection was enjoyable, but this one is my ultimate favorite in this whole thing. MAGNIFICENT. 

Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who participated in this, especially the organizers.

If anyone needs it again, here’s the link to the collection. Happy reading! 

So, I’ve decided I’m going to do a goal reach giveaway! There will be a total of four winners! 

About the Giveaway:

  • The giveaway will end when I reach a total of 5,000 followers!
  • This giveaway is not affiliated with Tumblr in any way. 
  • This giveaway is not sponsored by any third parties.

Prizes: (Pictures will be added later! Please note some objects will be lightly used, but all are in great condition.)

  • Prize pack one will be gender neutral and contain, two coloring books, a small stuffie, four tubs of Play-doh, a pacifier, a bottle and a sippy cup, one diaper in size M or L, and a crayola ultimate’s collection pack containing 152 crayons! Value: Around $80.

  • Prize pack two will be femininely gendered containing two princess or fairy themed coloring books, two tubs of Play-doh, a 32 pack of crayons, one Rearz princess diaper in size M or L, a princess sippy cup, and a pacifier. (You do not have to be female identifying to win this pack.) Value: Around $60.

  • Prize pack three will be masculine themed containing two coloring books, two tubs of Play-doh, a 32 pack of crayons, a pacier, a blue sippy cup, and one diaper in size M or L! (The diaper will be bambino classico or ABU space.) Value: Around $60. (You do not have to be male identifying to win this pack.)

  • Prize pack four will be gender mixed and contain four coloring books, four tubs of Play-doh, a small stuffie,  two puzzles, a cute REGULAR cup, and a 160 pack of crayons! Value: Around $40.


  • Follow the guidelines on the form! If the form are filled out incorrectly, you will be disqualified from the give away.

  • You must be following me. I will check. 

  • YOU MAY ONLY APPLY ONCE. If caught sending multiple entries, you will be disqualified. You can only apply for ONE pack. So, be sure it’s the one you want. 

  • You must reblog this post at least once. (NOTE: REBLOGS DO NOT COUNT AS ENTRIES. YOU MUST FILL OUT THE FORM.)

  • You must be willing to give me your address, duh. You can live anywhere though. I will ship internationally.

  • You must be an age regressor or caregiver. I don’t care which community you belong to as long as you are not anti-cgl and do not think cgl is a kink.

How to enter:

Fill out this form! 

Be sure to have read the rules carefully! And be sure to read the description of the giveaway on the form AND the descriptions of each pack!

Winners will be randomly selected once I reach 5,000 followers!

Okay! That’s it! I will add pictures later! Best of luck, lovelies!

If Isabelle Huppert doesn’t win, it will stand as one of the permanent Academy disgraces, along with Greta Garbo or Peter O'Toole never winning competitive Oscars. Huppert’s work in Elle is one of the best performances by one of the all-time great screen actresses and would deserve the prize in any year.
—  THR
Mobfell/Mafiafell Sans x Frisk

Had anyone looked as attractive to him as she was looking that night? He didn’t remember, and Frisk wasn’t helping it either. It only took two night gigs to get him staring with awe at the woman on the stage, wearing a tight blue, taunting and hauntingly seductive strapless dress, favoring her already fine-looking curves, sinking his thoughts into pleasurable oblivion, never ceasing to stare at the singer.  

Yet, although he rarely found attractiveness in anything that wasn’t superficial, her unintentional seduction and smartness always got him clinging to the thought of having her for himself. If it wasn’t crazy enough being allured to a human, the high class bone man who got everything he ever desired, (having women would’ve never been an issue) and superior to most dangerous gangs, was eager to trail his bony fingers across her beautiful face, always envisioning her in his soft, red satin sheets, ready to devour her.  

It wasn’t only the physical attractiveness though. As much as he admired her curvy and sensual body, her voice was the main mind tricker. She played with words, much like himself, and he found it freshly ravishing. Not only that, but her singing was intoxicating, getting all of his bones numb and his eardrums deliciously filled with the sound of her jazzy melodies.  

He never thought he’d experience emotions so intensely, getting a taste of a whole new interesting feeling in his soul. Sometimes, it got his bones rattling to get other men’s slavering attention at her to stop and take a hint. It didn’t take more than two nights at that bar to get his bones working, he had planned to catch her alone, left only for him to savour. But no, he’d had to be patient, for as long as he knew about her from the small talk with the men usually sitting next to him, it’d take him a lot more effort and planning to get her to belong to him. She wasn’t a woman to kiss up to someone, she had personality, which only made things more interesting. After all, after the great effort comes the great prize, and this one was definitely a keeper.  

And he knew he had her attention too. A monster more intimidating than the usual mobster customers at that bar certainly gave away the spotlight. Despite the heavy stares, the look she had in her gleaming chocolate eyes was more of interest and curiosity than of plain concern. He’d bet his fortunes this human was keen to know how his bones worked, and he was most certainly eager to show her.  

So her name got engraved in his mind- Frisk- or miss sunshine, as he liked to call her, the stage lights not being nearly enough warm and blinding as her beaming looks. Sans was interested in this particular human, and he was making sure to have a great time with her.

here’s my first attemp at writing something for these two. Depending on the feedback it gets, I might continue it or not. 

Korean Practice 13


어제 나는 대학교에서 한국어 말하기 대회에 참가했다. 그리고 대상을 탔다! 상금은 400달러였다. 모든 참가자들이 아주 잘 해서 나는 이겨서 놀랐다! 내 참가한 친구도 상을 받았다. 열심히 연습했다. 대상을 타서 영광이고 매우 기쁘다!


어제 나는 대학교에서 한국어 말하기 대회에 참가했다. 그리고 대상을 탔다! 상금은 400달러였다. 모든 참가자들이 아주 잘 해서 나는 이겨서 놀랐다! 참가한 내 친구도 상을 받았다. 열심히 연습했다. 대상을 타서 영광이고 매우 기쁘다!


Yesterday I participated in a Korean speech contest at my university. And I won the grand prize! The prize was 400 dollars. All the contestants did a great job, so I was surprised I won. My friend who participated also got a prize. I practiced really hard. I’m so happy and honored that I won!


  • It is better to put the noun-modifying verb/adj before the possessive pronoun, here “참가한 내 친구” instead of “내 참가한 친구”

anonymous asked:

Quick recap: why is Briefer's Frankenstein awesome for those of us not as familiar with it?

I like that you think I’m going to be able to do this quickly.

I’ll do my best.

A lot of people talk about Dick Briefer’s work on Frankenstein having two forms: scary and funny. This is not entirely accurate. There were actually three distinct eras.

The first began in 1941 and ran through the end of WWII in the pages of Prize Comics. This run is generally credited as being the first ongoing horror feature in comics, and it is, but in a lot of ways it’s a superhero feature where the main character is the villain.

It is ostensibly based on Shelley’s novel, but it is set in the 1930s and does not really follow the plot of the book at all. The Frankenstein monster, who is just called Frankenstein (a choice that is explained in a caption on nearly every splash page of the original run), gets loose and rampages across the city, eventually becoming something like a mob boss.

Victor Frankenstein raises an orphan and trains him up to be the perfect Frankenstein-whipping machine. His name is “Bulldog” Denny Dunsan.

These early adventures (especially the REALLY early ones) can be pretty crude and kind of aimless, and yet they’re buck wild enough that when I told @theisb he should write about Briefer Frankenstein for ComicsAlliance, he didn’t make it past the first story before getting distracted by the reanimated alligator man that Victor made to battle his creation.

However, as the feature goes on, Briefer hones his craft and eventually makes some really interesting (and sometimes delightfully weird) little done-in-one EC-style horror shorts that are loosely tied together by the premise of Frankenstein constantly getting killed by Bulldog Denny and then getting brought back to life. There’s even an issue when the heroes of all the other features of Prize Comics (Yank and Doodle, Black Owl, Green Lama etc) teaming up to fight Frankenstein, the only time those dudes teamed up in the Golden Age (except for when Yank and Doodle and Black Owl were merged into one feature).

Eventually Frankenstein becomes good(ish) and goes to fight the Hun in World War II. That basically marks the end of the first run.

The really good stuff comes next. In 1945, Frankenstein is given his own ongoing series. It is completely different in tone than what came before. It is a mix between a domestic situation comedy and spooky monster stuff.

The Frankenstein of this era is given a fresh origin and is now a gentle soul who just wants to live a normal suburban life with his friends, who just happen to be witches and vampires and mummies, etc.

These stories are basically flawless in their wit, charm, and Briefer’s effortless brush line. I cannot emphasize enough that these stories are delightful and just really, really funny. This era ran for 17 oversized issues (plus his continued feature in Prize Comics), ending in 1949.

There was a three year hiatus, and then Briefer brought the Frankenstein solo series back to life in 1952 for fifteen more issues. He returned to his original horror milieu, but now he had the benefit of having become an absolute master in the intervening years.

These are just dope af scary boys until the feature is retired in 1954.

But you don’t have to take my word for it! IDW put together this attractive (if slim) volume of Briefer Frank that gives a good survey of all three eras, while Dark Horse put out this fat book that collects the first handful of issues of the Funny Frank era. Both are worth your time; I own both.

OR! Great news! Dick Briefer’s Frankenstein, like all Prize Comics, is in the public domain and can be read legally and for free on the Digital Comic Museum. You can start from the beginning in the pages of Prize Comics (start with number 7. Also keep in mind that this, like most Golden Age books, is an anthology, so there is a bunch of non-Frankenstein content), or skip straight to the Frank-only stuff with Frankenstein.

Happy reading!

I’m seeing someone and he makes me very happy.

Why The Holmes Parents are Perfect for Sherlock

The moment I saw them I had the sinking feeling that Mr and Mrs Holmes are irreparably wrong.

Then I realise that this was only my own narcissism getting in the way of logical analysis because if one looks at them from an impartial perspective Sherlock’s parents are surprisingly right, in every sense of the word.

I explain:

  • Why the Holmes Parents fit perfectly into Sherlock and Mycroft’s background. They had to be ordinary in order to explain why Sherlock and Mycroft are extraordinary.
  • How normal loving parents can produce such eccentrically maladjusted offspring

  • What we can tell about the Holmes Brothers’ childhood from their parents.

Hot House Flowers


The Holmes parents’ apparently banality appears to have spoilt many deeply held fan beliefs regarding “Mummy”. The truth is I also fell into the horrific logical trap of assuming that just because Sherlock has arrested emotional development – his parents must be utterly eccentric, over medicated, psychologically unstable, adulterers who evidently neglected him something terrible.  

What we all lacked was a sarcastic voice of reason to interject with a perfectly time “really?” and an elegantly raised eyebrow.

The age old belief that parents pass their problems onto their children is definitely true but the way these problems manifest in children can be surprising and counter-initiative. 

For a doctor who has been surprised too many times to actually be surprised – I really should have seen the Holmes parents’ coming because actually they fit perfectly into Sherlock and Mycroft’s background.


Keep reading


Band Member: Ashton

Type: Gang AU

Description: Your brother is the leader of the most feared “club” in your town, the Ravens. You’ve grown up around the violence and the distress, it’s second nature to you now. You no longer flinched when somebody raised their fists or felt sick when you saw the blood. But then this soft spoken boy enters your life and shows you another way to live, throwing you into calamity.

Your brother grunted again when you made the final stitch. He took a swig from the bottle of whiskey then shot you a dirty look like you wanted to hurt him. You ignored the look as you cut off the thread that was holding his palm together.

“Didn’t Mum tell you not to play with knives, Danny?” you joked while you pulled off your gloves.

“It’s not funny,” your brother said. He examined his palm miserably. “You’re getting better at it though.”

You bit your tongue before you could say you shouldn’t have to “get better at it”, you weren’t medically trained and you didn’t want to be. But this was your life. Your mother had taught you how to do stitches at thirteen while most girls your age were doing normal things like shopping and having sleepovers. Danny trusted you to help him now your parents weren’t around anymore to keep the club running smoothly.

It was no secret Danny had been the apple of your mother’s eye but you had never minded, it had kept you away from her scrutiny. However once she’d gone, you saw cracks in Danny’s new found power as club head. He was faltering without your parents so you had to help him shoulder the responsibility of the Ravens. You soon realised that this was what your mother meant by “look after him”. You knew how to survive without your parents but Danny didn’t. Danny knew only one way of life and that was one where your father protected him while your mother held your brother’s hand.

“I might have cracked it by the time Daniel takes over the club,” you replied sarcastically.

Danny ruffled your hair and shook his head. “My son will be fixed up by better nurses than you, kid.”

As if on cue, Danny’s wife walked in with the sleeping toddler on her hip.

“How’s the hand, sweetie?” Opal asked.

He held it up for her inspection. “My little sister is great at cross stitch.”

“I’ve won prizes all over the country for it,” you jested. “My favourite one is in this real nice pink colour.”

Opal nodded intensely, she was a nice girl but there wasn’t much going on upstairs. You and Danny would often tell wild stories just to see how long it took her to realise it was all an elaborate lie.

“What was it of?” she asked.

Opal always tried to show interest in the things you did. She’d grown up in a different motorcycle club so she knew how lonely it was for the girls before they became “popular” with the guys.

“It was a lovely quote Mum used to say when she was alive,” you said frankly. “It still brings a tear to my eye just remembering it. It was ‘Fuck you, Danny’.”

Danny lightly pushed your arm with his uninjured hand while Opal was still deciding if you were being serious. He shrugged his leather jacket back on and awkwardly held his stitched hand.

“What have you done with Sophia?” your brother questioned his wife.

Sophia was the latest edition to your brother’s growing family, she was only two weeks old and the guys loved her almost as much as they loved you. Almost. A newborn couldn’t provide them with a bottle of hard liquor and the medical attention they needed but the fact Sophia couldn’t sass them put your niece in the front running for favourite club female.

Opal gestured to the front of the clubhouse. “Bam has her, he’s good with kids.”

Danny laughed at probably the same memory you were recalling. Bam was great with kids because when he got drunk, he’d sing karaoke. At your ninth birthday party, he had treated all the kids in your class to a confused version of Sex Bomb. He’d fallen off the stage at the end and had to be carried away by your father and the other guys.

Opal caught the look Danny was giving her and excused herself from the office.

“Hey, sis, can you do me a favour?”

You nodded as you packed the bulky first aid kit away. You were used to the favours he’d ask for, occasionally you would say no but now he had two children under the age of two, you felt you needed to keep him away from the increasingly stupid shit the club got itself into. You knew what it was like to have your dad constantly missing from your childhood and you didn’t want your brother’s kids to experience that too.

“Can you go with Walnut, Al and Sonny to tie a job up?” Danny asked. “It’s not dangerous or I wouldn’t ask you to but the health woman is coming to see Soph and I know she already thinks I’m deadbeat because of the club–”

“Danny,” you said to cut him off. “You don’t need to explain anything to me, okay? I can handle this.”

He nodded before hesitating. “Dad would kill me for letting you do this, you know? You’re my little sister. I’m supposed to be protecting you.”

“Times have changed since Dad’s era, Danny. You can’t protect me from the world forever.”

You rested your leg and back against the wall. You heard the occasional scream from the depths of the valley but you tried to block it out. What was one scream compared to the dozens you’d already heard? You hated playing lookout but Al was like the overbearing uncle who insisted you were too valuable to get injured. He was your dad’s best friend so he now felt responsible for you. Al made you promise every time you were on a job with them that you’d run at the first sign of danger.

You hummed to yourself as you watched a guy hauling a drum kit into the back of a van further down the street. He couldn’t have heard anything so far or he’d have reacted, surely? The more you watched him, the more he looked familiar but you shook your head. You were in the wrong side of your patch to recognise anybody. You looked back up the street but a sharp cry caught your attention. He swore loudly a few times before you saw the blood dripping down his arm. He looked around for something to stop the flow but came up with nothing. You sighed, the makeshift nurse in you screamed for you to help. You pulled one of the spare bandages from your pocket as you checked to make sure you weren’t about to walk into a trap and get the guys caught up in a shootout.

“Hey,” you called over to him as you began to cross the road. “Let me help.”

The boy looked up at you wearily but he nodded anyway. He held out his forearm where he’d scratched it on a snare drum. You dabbed up what blood you could with an antiseptic wipe then wrapped the clean cotton bandage around his arm. He watched you silently while you worked.

“Do you usually keep a first aid kit in your pocket?”

You looked up as you secured the dressing. “I do because I see people like you don’t carry them.”

He frowned for a minute then realised you were being sarcastic.

“I haven’t seen you for years,” he said with a smile.

Your forehead creased and you finally decided it was Ashton Irwin, the boy who had made friends with you at school when all the other kids avoided you because of your gang background. He had moved away eventually and you had missed him terribly. He had been your only real childhood friend who wasn’t a Raven kid. He’d tried to show you that life wasn’t full of bad people like you had been led to believe when you saw your brother coming back with stab wounds or when your father was hospitalised with another bullet.

“You haven’t change a bit,” you commented as you ruffled his slightly curled hair. “How have you been?”

“Good, I joined a band. We’re getting pretty big,” he said with a nod. “How’re things on your side?”

“The dark side?” you joked which made him laugh. You nodded weakly. “My dad was killed in a bar fight after attacking some rival gang then that gang put a hit out on Mum. It’s been a fun few years.”

Ashton rested a hand on your upper arm with an expression of concern. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“A band, you say?” you said to change topic. “You always had your heart set hitting things. I’m glad you picked the drums.”

“And you picked people,” he teased. “I don’t think Lucy McCormack will ever regain feeling in her cheek.”

You rolled your eyes at the reminder of your twelve year old self’s actions.

“She was bullying you,” you argued as you tried not to laugh. “I shouldn’t have hit her but she never came near you again.”

“I moved away!” Ashton reminded you. He smirked and shook his head. “But you were the greatest best friend I ever had as a kid.”

You smiled at him then turned back to the alley when you heard the telling shot of a gun. Ashton’s mouth fell open as he began to run over to the source. You grabbed his hand and shook your head fiercely. You heard another shot and ducked out of habit.

“That’s a bad idea,” you hissed as you pulled him towards your motorbike. You threw your helmet at him and grabbed Al’s, he wouldn’t mind. He hardly wore it anyway. “Get on.”

“We can’t leave whoever that was,” he disputed.

“We can,” you stated as you started up your bike. “Either you get on the damn bike or I leave you here to get shot too.”

He bit his lip before he broke into a run in the direction of the alley, you swore at him loudly as you grabbed his wrist to stop him going any further.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ashton?” you whispered as you ducked behind your bike for the little cover it offered.

He gestured to the alley like you hadn’t noticed what was happening.

“Somebody might be hurt!”

“You go down there, you’ll be a walking target for both sides,” you murmured. “Let me go, at least I have half the risk.”

“I’m not letting you walk into something like that by yourself,” he argued back. “Let me come with you at least.”

“Stay here,” you demanded as you forced him to sit on your bike. “If you don’t, I’ll shoot you myself.”

Ashton held his hands up and gestured for you to go. You saw the discontent with the situation on his face, it took you a while to realise why. You were so used to this now, you didn’t even bat an eyelid at the thought you could be killed these days.

You pulled out the gun from the waistband of your jeans and took off the safety before walking down the empty alley. You ducked into the doorways as you travelled towards the bottom of the alley. You caught sight of the body and felt a twisted sense of relief when it was the guy Walnut, Al and Sonny were after rather than one of them.

Al caught sight of you and shook his head. “I told you to leave if there was trouble.”

“Two gun shots aren’t classed as trouble anymore, Al. Maybe like five and it’s getting closer.”

He rolled his eyes and pointed to Walnut who was cradling his thigh.

“Nurse, you’re needed,” Al said plainly.

You sighed as you put the safety back on your gun and shoved it back into your jeans. You pulled out the wads of bandages you had stashed into your pockets earlier and knelt by Walnut. You started with a couple of bandages pressed against the wound and applied pressure to it to stem the bleeding. It wasn’t long until you felt the warmth but it no longer bothered you anymore, you were used to the sensation and it just another warning sign to what you needed to do next.

“Call an ambulance,” you said calmly. “I can’t treat it here and he sure as hell can’t ride a bike back to the clubhouse.”

“We have a fucking body,” Sonny pointed out. “We can’t call the damn paramedics when we have a fucking body.”

Al sighed and ran a hand over his thinning hair. “Sonny, dump the body back in the bastard’s meth lab and burn it after we’ve gone.”


“Just fucking do it,” Al shouted as he crouched next to Walnut who was groaning at the pain. “What happened to the ‘ask no questions’ attitude you used to have?”

Sonny grumbled as he began to drag the body back into the abandoned building on the right side of the alley. He slammed the door behind him angrily.

“He’s not my biggest fan,” you said with a small laugh as you managed to wrestle some gloves on while maintaining the pressure on his leg. “I upset him a couple of days ago when I shipped him off to the doctor’s office and the doc shoved a finger up his ass.”

“I don’t need to hear anymore,” Walnut said with heaving breaths.

You added a couple more clean bandages and sighed. “Neither did I but Sonny gave me the full report. Now, Al can you get the ambulance? I’ve spent enough of my day covered in blood.”

You lifted up Walnut’s leg much to his protest. Al wandered down the alley as he spoke to the controller about how Walnut was simply shot by a mugger in a completely random attack.

“You need to have it elevated,” you explained as you rested his boot against your shoulder. “Less blood loss means less chance you’ll kick the bucket.”

“You could do a better job than those paramedics,” Walnut sighed with a wince. “They aren’t as pretty as you, sweetheart. Some of them are as ugly as hell.”

You laughed softly as you drummed against his leg with your fingers. “Walnut, I don’t tell you enough that you’re my favourite.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said as he smiled. “But if you’re being nice, does that mean I’m dying?”

You shook your head with a small eye roll. “Over my dead body, Walnut, I haven’t lost any of my guys yet. I’m beginning to think Ma was the one who was cursed.”

Walnut let out a throaty chuckle as Al walked back over to you and nodded his head to something behind you. You dismissed it until he opened his mouth.

“We don’t need help, son,” he said in a low voice. “We have everything under control.”

You turned your head to find Ashton stood mesmerised by your work. He smiled at you like he’d seen you in a whole new light.  You sighed at the sight of him but a part of you was impressed he hadn’t turned pale at the sight of the blood.

“I told you to stay by the bike,” you complained.

Al frowned at you and pointed at you with an accusatory finger. “He’s with you?”

“I think ‘with’ is a little strong, maybe I’d say I found him if you pushed me for an answer,” you rambled as you shifted Walnut’s boot on your shoulder slightly.

“We’ve talked about this,” Al growled. “No boys outside the club.”

“This isn’t what you’re thinking, Al,” you said defensively. “I just helped him. That’s all.”

Walnut raised an eyebrow. “So it’s like that? You scratch his back, he scratches yours? What do they call that these days? Benefit friends?”

You felt a blush threatening to grace your cheeks so you turned your back on Ashton again and focused on checking the wound.

“Shut up,” you mumbled which made Walnut laugh.

“You can deal with him then, kiddo. I’ll go with Walnut to the hospital.” He looked over at Ashton curiously. “Can you ride a motorbike?”

He nodded slightly. “I can, not legally but sort of.”

“I don’t care about legal,” Al said gruffly. “Take Walnut’s bike back to the club for me then if you’re sticking around.”

“No,” you said quickly. “Ash, you can leave if you want. I don’t want to force you into anything.”

You looked over your shoulder to see his reaction. He shook his head which you feared he would. You were used to people walking in and out of your life: Guys from the club who warned you against the outsiders, the women who would pat your cheeks and say that they were your mother’s friends, even your own family waltzed in and out when the mood took them. You never knew who was going to leave next so it was easier to keep everybody at a safe distance. You learnt at a young age that it was less painful when they eventually left if you didn’t get too attached. Sure, you were lonely but it was better than feeling the ache of missing somebody.

“It’s just a bike,” he said with a shrug.

You sighed as you heard the slam of some doors and watched the paramedics approaching. You handed over to them giving them the basics of Walnut’s condition, age and the other stuff you’d picked up from when the ambulance was called.

“Impressive,” Ashton muttered to you when you walked back to the bikes. “Where did you learn all of that?”

You shrugged and glanced at him, you saw the amazement again and felt the same confusion. Why was he so astonished by what you did? Nobody else was, it was just expected. Some of the guys seemed to think your life purpose was the patch them up when they did stupid shit like have a practice fight with daggers.

“My mum started to teach me when you moved away,” you explained as you ditched the bloody gloves. “She said now I was spending less time with that happy kid, I could resume my miserable outlook and learn something useful.”

Ashton laughed and it was like meeting an old friend. You had missed that laugh more than you wanted to admit. You got your helmet on and started up your bike with a roar. He followed suit, pulled on the helmet and sat on Walnut’s motorbike. He stroked the body work and nodded approvingly.

“Let me guess,” he began, “if I crash this bike, I can kiss goodbye to my life.”

You nodded with a smirk. “And the afterlife. Walnut will drag you back from the dead just to kill you again to get the satisfaction for the second time.”

Ashton sighed as he started up the bike. He revved the engine to get a feel for it.

“I better follow you. It’s been a couple of years,” he shouted.

You pulled your visor down and finally smiled because he couldn’t see. He hadn’t freaked out and ran at the first opportunity like you expected.

You pulled into the street. You took the easiest route back to the clubhouse but Ashton managed to keep up the entire way. You pulled up outside the clubhouse and pulled your helmet off. He swung in beside you, smiling when he took Walnut’s helmet off.

“You were going easy on me.”

You shrugged and led him into the clubhouse. Danny was waiting by the door impatiently. He saw you and pulled you into a hug.

“I heard somebody had been shot, I thought it was you,” he mumbled into your hair.

You shook your head. “Walnut did, he’ll be fine.”

Danny pulled away and studied Ashton for a minute. To Ashton’s credit, he stood there and didn’t speak. He simply looked around, taking in the sights of the clubhouse. The bar, the snooker table, the dartboard, the hardly clothed women.

Danny leaned back in and whispered to you.

“He’s an outsider, sis. You can’t have him.”

Part Two is here!

Friendly Warning

Fic Request: Scott talks to Lydia about how she can’t break Stiles heart, while Alison talks to Stiles about his intentions with her best friend.

Rating: K

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Established Relationship

Author: dylanobrienstyler (previously holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight)

Keep reading


Part 1 of pics from the screening today! What a fun time! I have some vids still uploading, but they’re very shaky, and I know peeps got better ones. Still, if you’re into it, here’s a Jon Heder Q&A (and jon goofing around w mcbc) , and some trivia with  Warren Fitzgerald.

But WOW what a blast!! So much fun. All the guests, taking pics with Snakey, the raffle… So cool! I really hope they do end up doing the S2 screening they mentioned during this. There’s nothing like singing all those Aquabats songs with an entire theater. The reaction of the band when the entire theater just about knew the words to ‘Lady in the corner’ and all did the ‘ROWL’ was just great. Oh man.

But WOW, yes, so much fun. Holy cow. I’m still recovering from it. It went on two hours longer than it was supposed to due to technical issues but it was handled so smoothly you couldn’t tell. Comments on photos!

southernfriedjohnson  asked:

There's a book on Jay Hay that came out a few years ago, All the Great Prizes: The Life of John Hay, from Lincoln to Roosevelt. Hay and his interactions with all the different presidents is something I've always wanted to know more about. Have you had a chance to read it?

All the Great Prizes: The Life of John Hay from Lincoln to Roosevelt by John Taliaferro (BOOK | KINDLE) is a great book about a truly fascinating figure who had a front-row seat for much of American history in the last half of the 19th Century and is often overlooked when it comes to influential Americans but shouldn’t be since 50+ plus years of giants in American history turned to John Hay for counsel. Taliaferro’s book is well-written and thoroughly researched (it helps that John Hay was a voluminous writer himself) and I highly recommend it. I listed it as one of the best books of 2013 a few years ago.

Another recent book about John Hay that I’d definitely suggest checking out is Mark Zwonitzer’s The Statesman and the Storyteller: John Hay, Mark Twain, and the Rise of American Imperialism (BOOK | KINDLE). It’s remarkable to read about all of the historic figures that Hay came in contact with throughout his life and all of the historic moments he witnessed closely – he was like a brilliant, 19th Century Forrest Gump. And, of course, Mark Twain was Mark Twain, so there is no shortage of interesting characters in Zwonitzer’s book.